


Reaching Out

by kaeorin



Series: Loki's Lullabies [131]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avenger Loki (Marvel), Avenger Reader (Marvel), Avengers Tower, Comfort, Dancing, F/M, Fluff, Holding Hands, Pre-Relationship, Reader-Insert, Stark Tower, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:54:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25700923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaeorin/pseuds/kaeorin
Summary: No one could have guessed that your reflexes on a mission could lead to something more with Loki.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Series: Loki's Lullabies [131]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678240
Comments: 10
Kudos: 214





	Reaching Out

The first time you held his hand, you were in the field. 

And, okay, it wasn’t really _holding his hand_ so much as it was _grabbing his hand so you could pull him to safety not that he really needed your help but you were like two seconds away from getting caught by bad guys with guns and you weren’t really thinking straight okay_? But anyway, you grabbed him without thinking about it and yanked him down an alley so that the bad guys with guns could stroll right past you. You’d slammed him up against the wall and pressed yourself solidly against him in some weird misguided attempt to conceal him? Again, you weren’t really thinking straight and you were mostly just acting on instinct. And your instincts were to keep him safe.

In any case, once the danger had passed again, you slowly became aware of where you were and what you were doing, and the fact that Loki was smirking at you with something strange in his eyes. You pulled away from him with a hastily-mumbled apology and things went on as usual.

It was probably a little overly-optimistic to think that he wouldn’t give you a hard time over what you’d done, but he did, at least, have the decency to keep it to himself until the mission was complete. It kind of felt like it was dangling over your head, though, like you were just waiting for him to decide to speak up. You did your best to act normal around him for the next few days, but you couldn’t help but notice the new looks he kept giving you.

On the flight home, he sat quietly beside you for a while. You held your breath. If he was going to say anything at all, this felt like the time he’d say it. Sure enough, he turned his head to look at you and gave you an odd little smile.

“I believe I owe you my life,” he said in a low voice. “In the alley there?”

You couldn’t help it: you let out a laugh. Imagine _Loki of Asgard_ actually owing you anything, much less his life. You ducked your head a little and tried to hide your eyes behind your hand. “Yeah...sorry about that. It was just kind of...in the moment, you know? Ah...reflexes.”

He made a thoughtful noise. “So, facing down serious danger, your instinct is not merely to duck and cover, but to shelter the one you’re with.” He sounded amused. Maybe it was silly for you to feel so ridiculous, but your cheeks burned nonetheless. You shrugged.

“I know. Sorry. I know you can take care of yourself. Just...I like you, you know? I like having you on the team. I didn’t want anything to happen to you.” You forced yourself to lower your hand, then, and let it rest on your knee. You didn’t want him to think you really felt the need to hide from him. This was embarrassing, sure, but it would have been so easy for him to misinterpret your body language and think you didn’t want to look at him. And _that_ couldn’t have been further from the truth.

He didn’t say anything, but he did appear to make a show of settling a little more solidly into his seat. Then he reached for your hand and laced his fingers through yours. 

Neither of you spoke for the rest of the flight.

It became easier for you to touch him. Some invisible barrier had been shattered there in that alley, or there on the jet, and it was hard for you to remember why you’d gone so long _without_ touching him. On Thor’s movie nights, it became like second nature for you to grab Loki’s hand, or his knee, or his arm when tension was high and something was happening on screen. Hell, even when things were getting resolved, or all was going well, you found that you still liked taking his hand in yours. He let you. Often, he’d lean in closer to you to make some comment about the film, and you had to work hard not to let him know what his dry, quiet voice did to you. More than once, you fell asleep on him, waking only when someone flipped the lights back on. He wouldn’t let you apologize for it, even when Thor started giving the two of you strange looks.

You didn’t let yourself get carried away. So he let you touch him. So he touched you. That didn’t mean anything. You were one of only a few people on the team who didn’t mind being alone with him. Hell, you liked it. Not a lot of the others did. Maybe Asgardians were a little like humans in that they needed physical contact. You remembered reading about something like that in some Psych course you’d taken. But for the most part, you tried not to dwell on it. Loki let you hold your hand, and sometimes he put his arm around you even in a room full of other people, but you’d be damned if you were going to let that go to your head.

Things shifted at one of Tony’s parties. You were appropriately done-up, and you actually kind of liked the dress you’d picked out. It fit you perfectly, and accentuated all the parts of your body that you wanted accentuated without clinging too uncomfortably to the parts you preferred to hide. You’d spent more time on your hair and makeup than you’d ever done before, but you knew you’d be spending a lot of time with Nat and Wanda, and they were both _gorgeous_ so you had to do something to try to keep up, right? 

When you got to the party, you were disappointed, but not terribly surprised, to see that Loki was not there. He never came to things like this. That was fine. If you’d allowed yourself the tiniest little moment to imagine what he’d look like when he saw this dress, well, you certainly hadn’t really expected it to happen. You mingled. You danced. You chatted. You were hardly one of the top-tier Avengers, but there were plenty of people, it seemed, who were happy to talk to you while they waited for Steve or Tony to be available.

Something you didn’t expect was the sheer number of male agents who asked you to dance. You recognized a lot of them even if you couldn’t quite come up with their names. Most of them were happy to remind you of who they were and where you’d met and they were more or less perfect gentlemen on the dance floor. But maybe you needed to get Nat to teach you how to do that Look she’d perfected, that cool, almost threatening look that just about froze anyone in place. She didn’t have to figure out how to gently turn someone down when she didn’t feel like dancing. She just had to turn on that Look and those would-be dance partners magically found somewhere else to be.

As the night wore on, and the alcohol kept flowing from the open bar, more of the men got a little...handsier. You could take care of yourself, of course, but it grated on you, having to smile politely and give a gentle warning whenever a set of hands started to creep too low on your back. You were perfectly capable of looking out for yourself in the field, but you didn’t really want to make a scene there in the middle of everything. So you resisted the urge to throw these men to the floor and simply gritted your teeth until each song was over.

The worst of the gropers sidled up to you in the crowd and you had to try _hard_ not to groan aloud. No, you didn’t really want to dance with him again, but you also didn’t want to risk him throwing a fit. He was a little more drunk than he should have been, given the fact that this was kind of a company party, and you didn’t really know him well enough to be sure he’d take your rejection gracefully. He sank into a wobbly bow and took your hand so he could kiss it. You did your best not to shudder.

“Would milady do me the honor of dancing with me again?” 

You wanted to laugh. Or cry. Or turn around and run. It was clear that he thought he was being exceedingly chivalrous and romantic but...the words fell flat. Just as you were trying to decide whether it was late enough in the evening for you to plead exhaustion, you heard a low voice from behind you:

“Her evening’s been spoken for, I’m afraid.”

The agent’s eyes went wide and he stood up a little straighter when he saw who was behind you. You recognized the voice, of course: dark and rich and _delicious_ , and it wasn’t hard to imagine the sharpness that would certainly rest behind Loki’s eyes as he looked at this agent in front of you. It didn’t take long for the agent to flee, backing away through the crowd without taking his eyes off of Loki. You wanted to laugh as you turned to look at your savior, but as you took in the sight of him, that laughter dried in your throat.

He was breathtaking. Even moreso than usual. He wore an expensive-looking suit, all black, all perfect. His hair was smooth, held back out of his face in a low bun. It shouldn’t have worked with the suit, but it _did_. “God, Loki. You look…” But you trailed off when you realized that there was no way to say what you wanted to say without inspiring a memo from HR. 

He smiled that quiet, knowing smile that made you crazy, and gave the slightest bow. “As do you. I hope I wasn’t too presumptuous there, but...you looked rather uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, no, I mean, I was. Thank you. Seriously. You saved me. I owe you.” It was hard to keep yourself from babbling at him nonsensically, but thankfully he only looked at you with gentle amusement. He took your hand and brought it to his lips to press just the barest little hint of a kiss to your knuckles. You told yourself that it was absolutely ridiculous for your stomach to be doing all those flips over something like that, but swallowed hard in an attempt to regain control over yourself. 

“Would you care to dance with me, then? Or would you rather sit down somewhere? Are you tired?” 

“No! Let’s dance!” You sounded entirely too eager about that, but you didn’t let yourself feel too ridiculous. Without thinking about it, you tightened your grip on his hand and dragged him onto the dance floor with you. Touching him just felt right. And when the music slowed, he didn’t miss a beat: he slid his arms around you and pulled you a little closer and continued to dance. It seemed like your heartbeat should have been a little wilder, a little more frenzied, but...it wasn’t. You felt peaceful there in his arms. You felt right. It was a little surprising how _right_ it felt, really. You turned that thought over and over in your mind, trying to decide whether you had the courage to express it aloud. Probably not. But when you looked up at Loki’s face, you were filled with absolute certainty that you didn’t need to tell him how you felt. Because it was clear that he felt the same. You bit your lower lip and a thrill ran through you when he lowered his gaze to your mouth.

This felt like something new, and like something familiar all at once. It felt right.


End file.
